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Through a Glass Darkly

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Translation: Kajsa von Hofsten
- I was first up on the jetty! - That was refreshing.
If dad and Martin set the nets, Minus and I can fetch the milk.
No, David and Minus can set the nets so I can take a walk with my wife.
Or Karin and I can set the nets and Minus and Martin fetch the milk.
I don't want to do either. I'll decide for myself what I want to do.
- Why don't we go, Minus? - Why should women always decide?
I say we do what Karin decides! That way we won't lose our dignity.
We'd have gained a lot of time if dad had decided that straight away!
Should we get dressed before we set the nets?
- What do you think? - It's a bit chilly. My robe is quite thin.
- If you're cold... - Me cold? Not a bit. Are you cold?
It was you who said it was chilly. There's a bit of a wind, though...
We'll harden ourselves. Virility overrules health - right?
If Hemingway can do it, so can we! Forward march!
- Will there be a thunderstorm? - Not tonight.
I don't know - Iook at those clouds...
- Are you afraid of the thunder? - A darned violent fear.
- The thunderstorms in Switzerland... - Did you like it there otherwise?
I was homesick. But I wasn't coming home until I'd finished the novel.
- And is it finished now? - Yes, pretty much.
- How is your stomach ulcer? - So-so. Can you give me something?
We can go to the chemist's tomorrow. I have a few errands to run.
Did you get my last letter? I sent it off on Monday.
- I was with the Waldstein's in Basel. - Then you didn't get my letter.
- Then I flew here on Wednesday. - Then you didn't get it.
- Was it important? - It was about Karin.
I felt I had to write to you.
Even if it would interrupt your writing.
- A cuckoo. Didn't you hear it? - No.
- Surely, you must hear it now? - Where?
- When did you last wash your ears? - You're hearing too much!
After my illness, my hearing has become so acute.
Maybe it's the electric shock therapy.
Wasn't dad looking grey yesterday when he arrived from Switzerland?
He was tired after the journey. But he doesn't look happy.
- Is Marianne coming here? - Martin said they broke up.
- Poor dad, alone again. - I never liked Marianne.
She put on such airs. Dad became all ordinary next to her.
- And then she sneered at his books. - He has to get good reviews.
- But everybody reads his books! - He doesn't care about the sales.
He wants to be a poet.
What are you laughing at?
You're so tall, and so serious! "He wants to be a poet"...
Don't look so stung. I love you, little Minus!
- You're so terribly tall! - Stop being so silly!
Seventeen and nearly ten feet tall!
- Where's your girlfriend? - No one wants to be with me!
Don't be cross with me for laughing at you.
Edgar is the only psychiatrist I trust. He's treated her all along.
When Karin came home from the hospital last month -
- he and I had a good talk.
He can't guarantee a lasting recovery.
And now?
She seems unusually well.
Her sleep is a little unsettled.
Her hearing has become very acute. That's about it.
- How much does she know? - The truth about her illness.
- But not that it's relatively incurable. - Relatively, you say?
Edgar has had cases of full recovery, so there is some hope.
- How are things between you? - Fine, thank you.
The days pass by as usual...
I've been giving my lectures and examined scores of students.
I've come to realise that I love her, and am helplessly bound up with her.
Come what may...
I've become the anchor of her existence.
Maybe her only security.
I see.
- Shall we go back to the nets? - Yes, let's.
Beware of me! Stay away!
Stop hugging and kissing me. Don't sunbathe half-naked, you disgust me!
You know very well what I mean! Women are horrible!
They smell and move around, they comb their hair and they talk!
- Makes me feel like a skinned rabbit! - Poor little you.
Pity! I can provide all the pity I want myself!
What's wrong, my darling? I've never seen you like this before.
Please don't tell Martin or dad...
Don't be silly!
I wish I could talk to dad, just once!
He's so wrapped up in himself.
Him too.
Let's go back now.
- And I've spilt the milk too. - Careless boy!
- Damn! I hate hurting my fingers! - Put a plaster on it!
- Hello! - Martin has cut his finger.
- Let's have a look. - I'll put the milk in the cellar.
- It looks deep. Put a plaster on it. - What a lot of fuss!
How beautiful - lanterns and supper under the moon!
- You're a master chef, dad! - It smells wonderful!
Smell it, Minus...
You should write cookery books instead of novels!
Listen, the seating... Karin there, and you over there.
Minus over there and me here.
How I've longed for this moment! I was homesick all the time.
- For us? - Yes, even for you...!
- Are you staying? - For this month, at least.
- Are you going away again? - I'm going to Yugoslavia as a guide.
- A guide? Why? - It's a very flattering offer.
It's for a cultural delegation. And since I know the country...
- Well, David. Welcome home! - Thank you.
Your health, Karin. And yours, Minus!
- But what about your book? - I'll finish it before I go.
I spoke to the publishers, I'll be handing in the script next week.
- Will you be away for long? - I'm not sure...
I may stay a while in Dubrovnik after the others go home.
I feel like a criminal for some reason.
You promised to stay at home after Switzerland.
I don't remember making any promises...
Yes, Dad, you promised.
- How unfortunate. - Yes, it is.
Listen... We were going to have a nice evening -
- and instead we're on the verge of tears!
I've got presents for you all from Switzerland!
And Martin.
- Thanks, but you shouldn't... - Minus.
- Can we open them right away? - Yes, do!
Excuse me, I have to fetch my tobacco.
- I won't get these over my thumbs. - I've got one just like this.
- I bet he bought them in Stockholm. - It was a kind thought.
- Thank you so much, David! - Thanks for the lovely gloves!
We've got a surprise for you too!
- We have to blindfold you. - Don't peek!
- I'll take care of this, you go ahead. - I can't see a thing!
It's like walking on clouds. Who's idea is this?
Mine and Karin's.
Wait and see...
This is almost like Shakespeare.
Our play is called "The Artistic Haunting".
Or "The Tomb of Illusions".
Let the play begin!
It is midnight in the Chapel of Saint Teresa.
Here I shall meet her, my bride-elect.
Here, by this tomb redolent with the smell of death.
Someone moved inside! Could it be her?
I shall hide, so as not to frighten her.
- Who are you? - I am the Princess of Castile.
Died in childbirth in her thirteenth year.
My lord and beloved master, who I played with as a child -
- has turned to other women.
Princess, I love you!
But who are you? I cannot talk to just anybody, even if I am dead.
Fear not!
I am lord of my own realm, which is quite small and very poor.
- I am an artist! - An artist?
Yes, Princess! An artist of the purest kind.
A poet with no poems, a painter with no paintings...
- Musician. - A musician with no tones.
I scorn the completed work of art, the banal result of vulgar efforts.
My life is my work, and it is devoted to my love for you!
- Beautiful but incredible words. - I beg of you, put me to the test!
Listen carefully, I shall leave you soon.
When the clock strikes two you shall enter the tomb -
- and blow out the three candles inside.
In that same moment the door will close, and you shall join me in death.
A light sacrifice, my Princess. For what is life to a true artist?
Thus you complete your work of art and crown your love.
Thus you ennoble your life and show the sceptics the power of a true artist.
Farewell, my friend.
Do not fail me.
I stand before the moment of ultimate perfection! I tremble with anticipation.
I enter oblivion.
Only Death shall love me now.
I will go, nothing can stop me now.
- I am waiting. - Ye devils, what am I about to do?
Sacrifice my life - for what?
For eternity? For the perfect work of art? For love?
- Have I gone mad? - I am waiting.
Who shall see my sacrifice? Death! Who shall gauge my love? A ghost!
- And who shall thank me? Eternity! - I am waiting.
My knees are like clay and I shake, my insides are misbehaving.
- I cannot enter eternity with... - I shall not wait any longer.
Well... such is life.
I could of course write a poem about the princess.
Paint a picture or compose an opera -
- although the ending would be more heroic.
I enter oblivion.
Only Death shall love me.
Not bad.
The cockerels announce daybreak!
I shall go home to bed.
- And that's it. - Author! Author!
You were fantastic!
- And you were excellent. - It was all Linus's doing!
- But I forgot my lines. - That was nothing!
Let's clear the table and wash up now.
- I'll do it, it's too early to go to bed. - Not on your life!
I like pottering around, you'd actually be doing me a service.
- Well, in that case... - That's settled, then.
I'll get cracking straight away.
- Are you going to bed now? - Yes.
- There's hot water in the kitchen. - Oh good.
- The thunderstorm has passed. - I said that all along.
We left the window open, we'll have mosquitoes in the bedroom.
- Good night, Daddy. - Good night, Karin.
Good night, everybody!
- Are you all right there? - I'm fine.
- I'll help you. - I'm fine.
Could you help me, please?
They get this black from your gardening.
It won't go away.
You have such kind fingers.
But your thumb looks a little stubborn.
- Are you sad, Karin? - Not really.
What are you thinking?
Sometimes we're so defenceless.
No, I don't know...
Like children cast out into the wilderness at night.
The owls fly by, watching you with their yellow eyes.
You hear the pitter-patter and rustle, soughing and sighing...
All the moist muzzles...
The teeth of the wolves...
Not to worry, we'd have each other.
- You look anxious, I'm not so sure... - I'm not anxious at all.
You say there are no wolves, I'm not seeing any owls or hearing anything.
"You're just imagining things."
You have to trust me, Karin. Little Kajsa.
"Little Kajsa"...
You always say that... "Little Kajsa."
Am I so little, or has the illness made a child of me?
Do you think I'm strange?
- Do you think I speak the truth? - I don't know.
- Don't you think I love you? - Yes, I do.
- Isn't that enough? - Of course it's enough.
- Leave it, or you'll start bleeding! - I'll be all right.
I have to do some washing tomorrow.
Come to bed, Karin.
Dad took Minus's play as a personal insult.
He was terribly hurt, but tried not to let on.
And Minus was upset, of course.
Shall we put out the light?
- I'm sorry if I upset you. - Dearest child...
- I'm sorry. - Dearest beloved...
My dear, dear girl...
Sweetheart, I love you.
You couldn't hurt me.
You're so kind and I'm so mean.
Good night.
"She came towards him, panting with anticipation" -
- "cheeks rosy from the strong wind."
My God...!
"They met..."
"...on the beach."
Hello, little Kajsa. Are you up already? It can't be more than four.
- Hello, Daddy. - What is it?
Are you having problems?
I'm adding the finishing touches to my book, not my favourite pastime.
- Read to me. - Later, when I get the proofs.
- How come you're not sleeping? - Some birds made a scary noise.
They woke me up, and then I didn't dare go back to sleep.
Here you are...
- Just like when I was little. - You will sleep now, you'll see.
"They met on the beach."
"It was a clear day."
"Autumn was in the air."
- Dad! - Sh! Karin has just fallen asleep.
- Want to come and pull in the nets? - I'll be there.
Last year I was as good at walking on my hands as on my feet.
- Now I'm so tall, I've lost all stability. - Same here.
Spiritually, you mean?
- Do you write these days? - Plays.
- Can I read something? - No.
Nothing personal, but they're not very good.
- Have you written a lot? - 13 plays and an opera this summer.
It's gushing out of me. Is that how it is for you too?
What did you think of our play last night?
- It was nice. - I think it was crap.
"Her illness is incurable..."
"...with temporary improvement."
"I have long suspected it, the certainty is none the less almost unbearable."
"I'm horrified by my curiosity."
"By my urge to record its course."
"To make an accurate description of her gradual disintegration."
"To use her."
Martin! Wake up! How long are you going to sleep?
Martin, time for a bath! Get up now!
- What time is it? - It's... almost ten.
Heavens, have I slept that long?
- You little imp! It's only five. - So what?
I've been up for ages and had such odd experiences, while you just sleep.
- Come over here. - No, get up! We're going for a swim.
- Dad and Minus are doing the nets. - Come to me!
You sleep too much, that's what makes you such a know-all.
My little one, what's wrong?
- What is it, Karin? - I have a confession.
So spit it out.
When dad went out just now -
- I rummaged through his desk drawers.
I don't know why, I just felt I had to.
- I found his diary. - And?
- He'd written things there... - Like what?
About me.
- What had he written? - I can't tell you.
About your illness?
- Is it true it's incurable? - Dearest Karin...
Listen to me now!
Listen... Look at me!
Look at me...
I told David that there is a chance you'll have a relapse.
Maybe he misunderstood me.
No one could say that your illness is incurable.
- Word of honour? - Word of honour!
There now...
There was more...
- Well...? - I can't tell you!
- Please... - I couldn't possibly!
Ask him yourself!
Karin... Little Karin...
You have to be patient with me.
I'm sure my desire will come back.
- Don't you think? - Oh yes!
- Does it worry you? - Not in the least.
Listen... I'm terribly tired, but...
I still think we should get up and go for a swim.
It's not cold at all.
Imagine having a calm woman who gave you children and coffee in bed.
Who was big and soft and warm and beautiful...
Wouldn't that be nice after all?
- It's you I love. - Of course, but nevertheless.
I don't want anyone else!
Even though you always say and do the right thing, it turns out wrong.
I do it out of love.
He that loves for real, always does right by his loved one.
In that case you don't love me.
Bye, Minus!
Make sure poor Minus doesn't fall asleep on his Latin.
- I said I'd test him on his grammar. - Bye, my girl!
Don't forget your brandy, and get a bottle of white wine.
- Bye, darling. - We'll be back for dinner.
What the hell are you laughing at?!
Say something!
Go ahead, if it's so amusing!
Which are your favourites?
Don't be an old maid, come here and show me!
- Do you like her best? Why? - She's so soft.
I think she's pretty too. But isn't she a bit fat?
- And her hair is so long... - She doesn't look too complicated!
But what good is that to me?
Are you going to hit me?
It's my fault. Forgive me.
Calm down, Minus. It doesn't matter, don't worry.
It was foolish of me to pry.
I don't want to, it just happens.
- Do you want me to test you? - If you feel like it...
- I wonder if everyone is caged in? - What?
You in yours, I in mine. Each in their cubicle... Everybody.
- I don't feel caged in at all! - I'm wrong, as usual.
Constructio ad sensum. What does that mean?
Don't try...
It means changing a grammatical construct to suit the content.
An example?
Nobilitas rem publicam deseru...
- It's so hot! - And I've been up since four thirty.
Do you want to smoke a cigarette?
If you look long enough with your head tilted to one side it gets scary.
Though tempting.
I don't talk to dad or Martin about it, they don't understand.
Particularly not Martin, he's too anxious and has enough as it is.
They don't understand, they only think I'm ill.
- Do you think so too? - No!
I thought so.
You're stronger.
I've so often wanted to talk to you about it all.
You can trust me.
It's hard not to talk about something that's constantly on your mind.
But I don't think they mind my telling you.
- "They"? - Don't rush me with lots of questions.
Either I tell you, or it's over.
- It makes me curious. - It's all right for you.
Let me show you something.
I walk through walls, you see.
Early every morning I'm woken by someone calling me in a firm voice.
I rise and come to this room.
One day someone called me from behind the wallpaper.
I looked in the closet, but there was no one there.
But the voice went on calling me -
- so I pressed myself against the wall, and it gave, like foliage -
- and then I was inside.
You think I'm making it up, don't you?
I come into a big room.
It's all light and peaceful.
People are moving up and down.
Some of them talk to me, so I'll understand.
It's so nice, and I'm safe.
In some of the faces there's like a shining light.
Everyone is waiting for him to come -
- but no one is anxious.
They say that I can be there too when it happens!
Why are you crying?
It's nothing.
Nothing to worry about.
But... sometimes I have this intense yearning.
I yearn for that moment...
...when the door will open...
- ...and all the faces will turn to him. - Who is he?
No one has said for certain.
But I think it's God who shall reveal himself to us.
That it will be him coming into the room, through that door.
This isn't easy to say...
- What's that? - I turn away from Martin.
He calls out after me, but I can't help him.
It becomes play-acting.
- Does he notice anything? - I'm not sure.
I must choose between him and the others.
I've made up my mind... I have sacrificed Martin.
- Is all this for real? - I don't know.
I don't know! I'm caught in the middle, and sometimes I'm uncertain.
I know I've been ill and that the illness was like a dream.
But these are not dreams, they're real. They have to be real!
To me they're not real, not in the least.
- It's not real for me. - Oh yes...!
A god steps down from the mountain.
He walks through the dark forest...
Everywhere the wild beasts, in the silence and the darkness.
It has to be real.
I'm not dreaming, and I'm telling the truth.
Now I'm in one world, now in the other.
I can't stop it!
Shall we go for a swim?
I'll go on my own then.
I feel sleepy.
I'm going to take a nap.
Close the door when you leave.
Don't do that! Get out! Get out!
What the hell can I do?
Well, have you prepared your Latin?
Let's continue.
First we'll have tea.
- Will you tell dad and Martin? - What would I tell them?
Clever answer, but you can't fool me. You'll take Martin to one side and say:
"I have to talk to you about Karin." And then you'll tell him everything.
- Can't you tell him? - Promise not to say anything!
- I promise. - No one but you understands.
- One word, and you've betrayed me. - I promise.
- It looks like rain. - Do you think so?
- What's with you? - What?
You're so quiet, almost hostile.
- It's not worth talking about it. - Please!
It's about Karin.
She rummaged through your desk and found your diary.
- And she read it, of course. - Oh no...
What have you written?
Karin wanted me to ask you.
I wrote that her illness is incurable.
And that I felt a strong urge to record its course.
I can't put the blame anywhere else. There is no excuse.
It's always about you and yours.
Your callousness is perverse.
"Record its course." That's so typical...!
- You don't understand. - No, I don't.
But one thing I do understand - you're hunting for themes.
Your own daughter's mental illness. What a great bloody idea!
- I love her, Martin. - You "Iove"?
There's no room for emotion in your void. And you lack common decency.
You know how to express yourself, you always have the right words.
There's only one phenomenon you haven't the slightest clue about - Iife!
You're a craven coward!
But in one particular you're a genius: evasions and excuses.
- What do you want me to do? - Write your book!
It might give you your heart's desire: your artistic breakthrough.
Then you won't have sacrificed your daughter in vain. And...
Go ahead, say it!
In your novels you're always flirting with a god.
Let me tell you: Your faith and your doubt are very unconvincing.
What is most conspicuous is your inventiveness.
- Don't you think I know that? - Why do you go on?
- Do something respectable instead. - Such as?
Have you written one word of truth in your life as an author?
- I don't know. - See?
Your half-lies are so refined that they look like the truth.
- I try. - Maybe you do.
But you never quite get there.
I know.
You're empty but capable.
And now you're trying to fill your void with Karin's extinction.
But how will God fit into that? It must make him more inscrutable than ever!
Let me ask you something... Can you control your innermost thoughts?
Fortunately I'm not very complicated.
My world is very simple. Quite clear and human.
- Still you've wished Karin would die? - Absolutely not!
Only you could think that.
Can you swear that you've never thought it? It would be logical...
You know her case is hopeless. And you know your suffering is pointless.
- She might just as well be dead. - You are grotesque.
That depends entirely on your point of view.
I love her.
I'm powerless.
I can only stand and watch -
- as she is transformed into a poor, tormented creature.
Let me tell you something.
When I was in Switzerland I decided to kill myself.
I hired a car and found a precipice.
I calmly set out. It was afternoon, the valley was already in darkness.
I was empty. No fear, no regrets or expectations.
I set out for the precipice, stepping on the gas - and stalled, stopping dead.
The gearbox went, you see.
The car slid on the gravel and came to a halt, front wheels over the edge.
I crawled out of the car, trembling.
I leaned against the rock face across the road.
I sat yawning for hours from being short of breath.
Why are you telling me this?
I want to tell you that I no longer have any front to protect.
The truth won't bring a catastrophe.
- This has nothing to do with Karin. - I think it does.
I don't understand that.
Out of my void something was born, something I can't touch or name.
A love...
...for Karin... and Minus.
And you.
One day I may tell you about it.
I daren't do it now. But...
If it is the way I'm hoping...
Let's leave it for now.
The rain is coming now.
The rain's coming!
Karin, is that you?
It's me, Karin.
Can't you hear me, Karin?!
- I'm not well. - Let's go home.
- You have to help me. - How can I help you?
You have to help me.
- I'm so thirsty. - I'll fetch some water.
What time is it?
Five, I think.
I've been very ill, but I feel better now.
- Poor Minus! - Karin, my darling...
- I want to talk to dad alone. - Let's go home.
I have to talk to dad, before it starts all over again... Please!
I'll go to the farm and call an ambulance.
Please, go and get my medicine bag. I'll have to give her an injection.
- Dad... - Yes?
I want to stay at the hospital now. I don't want any more treatments.
- Can I be spared if you tell them? - I don't know.
One can't live in two worlds. One has to choose.
I can't go on moving from one to the other all the time.
It can't go on.
- The hatred. - What hatred?
I didn't do it of my own free will.
A voice told me what to do.
The voice told you to read my diary.
It also told you to tell Martin what you read.
I've done worse than that.
Much worse.
I tried to resist, but I couldn't get away.
I was forced to do it.
When was this?
Just now.
Poor Minus!
I just don't understand!
Try to stay calm, Karin.
And then the room with the waiting people...
The good, light people waiting for the door to open -
- for God to come to them.
But then the voices appear...
I have to do what the voices tell me.
I can't make sense of it all.
Is it really only my illness?
It's so horrible to see one's own confusion, and to understand it!
I want to apologise to you.
I've always had a guilty conscience about you, so I've turned away.
It makes me sick to think of all the life I've sacrificed for my so-called art.
When your mother died, my making it as a writer meant more to me.
I was secretly rejoicing, yet I loved your mother in my own confused way.
When I fell ill you went to Switzerland.
I couldn't bear that you'd inherited your mother's illness, so I fled.
I had to finish my novel.
Is it any good?
You see, Karin...
One draws a magic circle around oneself -
- to keep everything out that doesn't fit one's secret games.
Each time life breaks the circle, the games become puny and ridiculous.
So one draws a new circle and builds new defences.
Poor little dad.
Poor little dad, who has to live in the real world.
Let's go home now.
I have to pack.
- When will the ambulance be here? - In about an hour.
I just want to get changed and pack.
I can manage on my own.
The light is so strong.
You must help Linus with his Latin, Dad.
We mustn't forget to bring the keys to the house.
- Aren't you coming back here? - No, I'll stay.
I think that's best.
We didn't get to pick any mushrooms.
- Will you help me pack, Martin? - Of course.
Minus, I want to talk to you!
Come here now, Minus!
Your shirts are clean, but not ironed.
- I'll wear this. I have shirts in town. - Can you help me close this, please?
It's the shoes. I'll leave them here.
Wear these instead and leave those.
I'm taking them to the shoemaker's.
Have you got a headache tablet?
- I thought I put my bag in here. - No, it's in the kitchen.
So I did.
- Have you seen Karin? - No.
Yes, I understand.
I understand.
Yes... that's good.
Yes, I understand.
Yes, I understand.
I know it won't be long now.
It's a great comfort to know.
But our waiting has been one ofjoy.
Sh, Martin! They're saying he'll be here any moment now.
We have to be ready.
- We're going to town. - I can't go now, don't you see?
You're mistaken, Karin.
Nothing is happening in there.
Karin... No god will walk through that door!
He'll be here any moment now, I have to be here then!
Dearest Karin, it's not true!
If you can't be quiet you'd better leave!
Come now.
Go away and let me have this moment alone!
Martin, dearest...
I'm sorry I was so mean just now.
Couldn't you kneel down next to me and clasp your hands?
It looks so funny and demonstrative with you sitting on that chair.
I know you don't believe.
But for my sake, Martin.
My love!
My love... my love!
Hold her legs.
Calm down, Karin.
I was frightened.
The door opened...
...but the god was a spider.
He came up to me...
...and I saw his face.
It was a terrible, stony face.
He scrambled up and tried to penetrate me -
- but I defended myself.
All along I saw his eyes.
They were cold and calm.
When he couldn't penetrate me...
...he continued up my chest...
...up into my face and onto the wall.
I have seen God.
Wait by the jetty, we'll be there as soon as we can.
They'll be waiting by the jetty.
I'm scared, Dad!
I sat in the wreck, holding Karin, when reality cracked.
- Do you understand what I mean? - I understand.
Reality... cracked, and I fell out.
It's like in dreams...
Anything can happen.
- I know. - I can't live in this new world.
Yes, you can. But you have to have something to hold on to.
What would that be - a god?
Give me a proof of God!
- You can't. - Yes, I can.
But you have to listen carefully.
Yes... I need to listen.
I can only give you an indication of my own hope.
It's knowing that love exists for real in the human world.
- A special kind of love, I suppose? - All kinds, Minus.
The highest and the lowest, the most ridiculous and the most sublime.
All kinds.
- The longing for love? - Longing and denial.
Doubt and faith.
So love is the proof?
I don't know whether love is proof of God's existence, or if love is God.
For you, love and God are the same?
I rest my emptiness and dirty hopelessness in that thought.
Tell me more, Dad!
Suddenly the emptiness turns into abundance -
- and hopelessness into life.
It's like a reprieve, Minus...
...from a sentence of death.
Dad... if it is as you say -
- then Karin is surrounded by God, since we love her.
Could that help her?
I believe so.
- Would you mind if I go for a run? - Run off. I'll make dinner.
See you in an hour.
Dad talked to me.
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